<p>Well, I just got back from the Senior Dinner at Gifford House (the university president’s residence) and at the end, alums and current seniors go up to the podium and give a response to President Bacow’s prompt: “If you were stopped by a tour of prospective students to Tufts, and were asked what was the best, most special thing about your time at Tufts, what would you say?”</p>
<p>OK, it’s no secret on these CC boards that I love Tufts. But I just couldn’t make it up there because I was already tearing at the alumna who graduated 25 years ago talking about her special experience… (I cry at commercials, it’s very pathetic), but I thought it might be nice to start a thread with this topic on the CC boards so that real, and not just hypothetical, prospective students can read it.</p>
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<p>Here goes mine:</p>
<p>Ever since I was very young, I thought I would be a writer. I can’t even remember how many times I handed a story (illustrations et al) to my mother and said: “Here, send it to the publisher.” I wrote, wrote, wrote and it began to define my life in most every way. </p>
<p>One day, in the seventh grade, Mr. Davis asked our English class to write a story. I did, and mine was a 70-page single-spaced typed novella. It was (and still is!) the longest thing I have ever written. My parents loved it; I was so proud. When I finally got it back, about 3 weeks later (it seemed like forever), there was a big red “A” on top. Pleased, I flipped through the pages, and saw some markings and suggestions on the first few sheets… and then no more. Mr. Davis hadn’t read it. </p>
<p>I felt so silly. Who did I think I was? Flaubert? [That, of course, is an anachronism: I had no idea who Flaubert was when I was 12.] I didn’t write fiction for a very long time after that; I stuck to my whiny teenaged journals for quite a while.</p>
<p>It was here on The Hill that a professor encouraged me to write creative fiction again; he believed in me, encouraged me, and gave me the constructive criticism and support that I had lacked throughout those years since Mr. Davis. </p>
<p>I’ll be receiving an endowed award for outstanding creativing writing (fiction) at graduation this year. And I would never have written again – I would not have re-discovered this very important part of myself! – had it not been for that English professor and, of course, Tufts. It may very well define all my years to come.</p>